


All That Does Not Meet the Eye

by tyuoi



Series: Coexistence [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blind Character, Blood and Gore, Demonic Possession, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6771745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyuoi/pseuds/tyuoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To be guided nor misguided<br/>in love,<br/>nor broken hearted.<br/>But to sail in waters uncharted." —Lang Leav<br/>Blind AU. </p><p>or beware of the creepy lil demonic children that steal your eyes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surveillance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Blind AU and because of it the POV will switch between characters but it will mostly bounce between Dipper and Bill  
> \-- signifies shift in scene  
> == signifies dream/mindscape  
> *** signifies shift in POV

He thumbed at the pages of the journal, his eyes scanning frantically, searching for an explanation--anything really—but they found none. A pit hollowed in his stomach, heavy and expanding, his insides twisting with unease. He flipped the page, his index finger catching slightly on the edge causing him to flinch back when it started to bleed lightly. Wide brown eyes met the page’s bold scrawled lettering.

_TRUST NO ONE._

His heart thudded once in his chest, before confusion settled in.

He looked down at the page again but its former warning had vanished; a spell for height altering in its stead.

Dipper glanced up at his sister. Her long brown hair that tapered down to her waist, feathered by the wind. The slight sway of her body as she shifted anxiously from one foot to the other.

She met his gaze, her wide, warm eyes softening in a reassuring expression.

“I’m sure we’ll get out of here soon Dipping Dots.”

Dipper nodded automatically and stood from his crouched stance. They made their way through the unexplored patch of forest.

He was swatting away a mosquito when he heard his sister call out from behind him.

“After all, you know this place like the back of your hand.”

Dipper’s hand clenched around the journal reflexively.

His brow furrowed as he mustered up a truthful reply. “I don’t know Mabel. I’ve never seen this place before and I was certain I had covered the majority of the woods.” He chewed on the inside of his lip and added, “We’re not too far into the forest. This…doesn’t make sense.”

Mabel threw her arm around his neck pulling him closer to her, laughter bubbling off her lips. “Hey! Now it’s an adventure.”

He smiled fondly at his sister’s optimism, his anxiety taking a back seat for the moment.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

Mabel squeezed his shoulder playfully. “Of course I’m right. I’m always right!”

He rolled his eyes at her antics and they ended up landing on something oddly familiar. He ripped out of her embrace and scuttled over to the trunk of a tree.

A large rock was wedged between its roots. Dull, faded colors splashed across the grey forming their names.

“What the…” He muttered under his breath and picked up the rock.

His thumb ran over the letters and he turned to show Mabel.

Mabel’s eyes widened at the sight and a grin broke out onto her face. “That’s our rock, Rocky! We can’t be that lost.”

Dipper shook his head his gaze transfixed on the stone.

“But we left the rock by that stream. That day we found those glowing fish. Remember?”

Mabel’s face fell with confusion. “That can’t be right.”

Dipper nodded in agreement. “No it’s not. This shouldn’t be here.”

He picked up his head to scan the vicinity, but his eyes only fell on unfamiliar trees. He looked up at the darkening sky, searching for answers, but the trees’ limbs blocked his view, their outstretched fingers veining across the grey clouds.

“You sure we left it there? I mean it’s not like rocks can walk,” his sister’s voice perked from behind him. She took the stone from his hand and brought it close to her face.

“Unless it’s alive.” She peered at it with wide, accusing eyes. “Rocky are you alive buddy?”

Dipper shook his head at her words, irritation bubbling in his gut at her not taking their situation seriously. He leaned against a tree, mind scanning memories of advice Ford had given him, things he had read in the library.

Nothing made sense. He hadn’t taken a different route this time—it was the same one he took almost every day. The farther they dwelled into the forest the more each tree, each rock resembled another. The path seemed to disappear beneath his feet.

He rested his head against the rough bark and sighed, his eyes fluttering open.

In the far lining of the trees, he saw a small figure. Dipper leaned forward running a hand over his face, doubt clouding his mind. But sure enough when he looked again it was still there.

He glanced at his sister, sitting on a boulder on her phone, probably trying to contact someone they knew.

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna check something real quick.”

Mabel frowned, a small pout forming on her lips. “Okay, but don’t go too far.”

He nodded, already walking, pushing plant life aside and he kept walking, even when thorns caught at his skin.

He looked around him, searching, confused. He could’ve sworn he saw it standing here.

Glancing to his left, he caught the small shape of a boy hiding behind a tree.

Dipper faltered in his step. “Hey.”

He watched as the boy picked up a pebble and continued walking, tossing the stone in his hand, unaware of Dipper.

He called out again but the boy didn’t hear him or at least he pretended not to, refusing to turn around, continuing to walk away.

Dipper couldn’t help but feel his curiosity peek.

The people from Gravity Falls never wandered too close to the edge of the forest, never daring to explore its depths. They all thought the twins were crazy; although, some thought them brave for scouring through the dense foliage frequently.

There was no sensible explanation to why a boy, who couldn’t be older than eight, was in the middle of a forest, alone. And a forest as dangerous as this one.

He glanced back the way he was coming, convincing himself that Mabel could wait a bit longer. After all, he was just trying to help a kid. But in the back of his mind, something crept, a fear that lingered in his shaking hands, and it whispered in his ears telling him to trust nobody.

This was Gravity Falls after all. When was anything normal?

He followed the boy, his fingers clenched, nails digging crescent moons into his palms, his voice caught in his throat.

The boy continued to walk at a languid pace, his small hands occasionally passing over the rough bark of a tree. He stopped at a clearing.

Tall grass touched his knees, the smell of pine needles and dandelions tickled his nose, and Dipper wondered how it was he had never seen this place. There was a slight rumbling, something similar to thunder although muted, as if it was somewhere far away.

He looked up at the sky, its churning grey and blue clouds. He had an inclination that it would start raining and he wanted to voice this to the boy but when he glanced down he suddenly couldn’t find his voice.

All he saw were these cold empty sockets, dark and devoid of life.

And then the image started to blur at the edges until he was consumed by darkness.

\--

Light began to filter in through the limbs of the swaying trees, dancing and curling on his eyelids. His head was pounding, his skull concaved like an egg cracked on the edge of a bowl.

Pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead, he mustered up the strength to sit upright and survey his surroundings.

He was in the forest, sitting on top of scattered twigs and foliage but an otherwise barren area. It almost seemed that the area his body touched had decayed the land.

Eyes fluttering in confusion, he stood and dusted himself off, wondering how exactly he got here and how he had managed to fall asleep in the middle of the forest. The last thing he remembered was being lost with Mabel and they had found—

Mabel.

Dipper twisted around looking for his sister but was met with the eerie silence of the woods.

There was no point in staying put, hoping to be found, so he started to walk forward quickly realizing he recognized this part of the forest. If his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him then he should be in the glade soon and out of the tree lining.

With a few more tired steps the trees became sparser and he could see the Shack in the distance. A small grin of relief passed his features when he placed his hand on the familiar totem pole.

“Dipper!”

He glanced up, seeing that his sister was bounding down the steps of the Mystery Shack and running towards him.

A wave of relief passed over him, seeing that she had made it back home safe.

Mabel gripped his shoulders tightly, her face contorted with worry, her large brown eyes brimming with unshed tears. She quickly pulled him into a hug, sniffling into the crook of his neck.

“Where were you?! We were worried sick,” she pushed him at arm’s length and raked her gaze over him, searching for injuries even if there were none.

Dipper ran a hand through his hair, a bit frazzled by how concerned his sister was. He was about to reply that he had no clue where he was or how he had gotten there when the rest of staff broke through the door.

Stan, Soos, and Wendy poured out, all stricken with astonishment and relief.

“Dipper! Where the hell did you run off to?”

Dipper shrunk away from Stan’s booming voice, taken aback by how angry he sounded.

He rubbed his arm and lowered his gaze. “I don’t know. I just woke up in the forest. I wasn’t that far off…just behind the tree lining.”

Wendy fixed him with an odd look, her arms crossed. “That’s not possible dude. We looked for you everywhere. We would’ve found you if you were that close by.”

Dipper returned her confused gaze and took a small step back from his sister, feeling a bit crowded.

“I…You guys looked for me?”

Mabel’s eyes widened by a fraction and her lip quivered slightly with emotion; he could tell she was dying to pull him into another embrace but something was holding her back.

“Dipper,” she fidgeted with her hair, a nervous tendency of hers. “You didn’t come back last night.”

Dipper shook his head, because that couldn’t possibly be right. He couldn’t have been separated from Mabel for more than an hour at the most. At least it felt that way.

Mabel wrapped her arms around her middle and glanced at the ground, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. “When you said you were going to check something out, you never came back. So I got worried and I finally got service so I called Wendy and she found me. We thought you’d find your way out by dinner…you always do. And when you didn’t we all looked for you but it was like you just disappeared or something.”

Dipper could only reply with a small, “Oh.”

Wendy gave him a reassuring smile. “Well at least your back.”

Mabel broke out into a grin although it looked a bit forced and wrapped an arm around him.

“You want some lunch, bro-bro?”

Dipper nodded and started walking back into the Shack.

Soos nudged him in the side and gave him a wry look. “Dude, I can’t believe you fell asleep in the forest.”

Wendy snickered at his comment. “And here we thought you were a light sleeper. But hey, you know what this means right?”

Dipper narrowed his eyes at her in question.

“You’ll be so much easier to play pranks on!”

He could only groan in response. Even if he wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

\--

Dipper closed the journal in frustration and threw an arm over his eyes. He had been scouring the Internet, the Journal, and even his own findings trying to figure out what exactly he had come across in the forest. He was so close to calling Ford and asking, but he didn’t want to be a bother and he didn’t even know where his grand-uncle was or if the call would even go through.

Dipper groaned in frustration and tried to concentrate, attempting to crack the case in his own mind. After all, he was the only one who had experienced it—as far as he knew—so he had the most intel on the situation.

But his memories were skewed.

_“You just got this really weird look in your eyes and you said you were gonna check something out and be right back. You took forever so I called after you but you never answered.”_

Mabel had retold him several times what had happened, but he still couldn’t remember it happening.

What had he seen that had caused him to wander off like that? And why couldn’t he remember it happening?

Then there was the issue of where he woke up. He could’ve sworn he woke up only a few hundred feet from the glade, meaning he was barely a three minute walk away from the Shack. But everyone else had insisted that he must’ve woken up much farther away because they had searched the area thoroughly.

He still couldn’t believe Stan had stepped foot into the forest. It brought a small smile to his face.

“You okay over there, bro-bro? You sound like Waddles when he hasn’t eaten in a while.” 

Dipper turned his body and leaned on his hand, giving her a fixed look.

“Nothing just trying to figure this all out.”

Mabel put down the sweater she was knitting, her hands clenched around the needles. “You’re still on that?”

Dipper furrowed his brows at her in question. “Well, yeah. If you suddenly disappeared for an entire night, wouldn’t you be a little curious as to why?”

Mabel bit her lip lightly and looked down at her work. “I guess,” she said in a very unconvincing tone.

He hummed in acknowledgement, his mind already stringing together different theories.

“You think maybe I was pulled into a different plane and that’s why I was in the same spot you guys were supposedly looking for me? Yeah, that would make sense,” he mumbled to himself. “And if the other plane is in a different time zone then it explains why it felt like I was gone for an hour and not a day.”

Mabel pouted slightly at the theory. “Another plane of existence? Isn’t that a bit farfetched, Dipper?”

Dipper shrugged in defeat. “We’ve seen weirder things.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Mabel said in her best impression of a southern accent.

Dipper snorted at her and leaned back into his mattress, his mind tired and numb, begging for rest.

“I think I’m going to go back out there tomorrow. Try to retrace my steps and stuff…” He muttered lowly.

“You’re going back after what happened? Are you nuts?” Mabel spoke in a hushed tone, which struck him as odd considering no one was around.

“Course I am,” and then quickly added. “I’ll have my phone and if that doesn’t work I’ll bring a walkie-talkie. I’ll be fine…”

“Dipper,” Mabel whined, but it had little to no effect on her brother.

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep, Mabes. Can you turn the light off?”

Mabel huffed dramatically, clearly not pleased with how the conversation ended but she carried out his request.

==

The forest seemed dim, dull, and opaque even. It was uncharacteristically quiet, devoid of birds singing or crickets chirping. And when he started to move, not even the weight of his feet made a sound.

He shifted through the trees, feeling as if it was all familiar, yet he couldn’t place where he was exactly.

Something rustled in the bushes ahead of him and he almost fell backward, taken aback by the sudden noise.

A small, narrow snout poked out of the foliage; amber eyes gazed at him, watching, waiting. The fox crouched before it walked towards Dipper, its feet making soft pitter-patters. Dipper wanted to shy away from the animal, but it was so fascinating—its shape and additional limbs, the way it held itself with pride and curiosity, showing no fear towards the human.

It walked, circling Dipper once, observing him before it sat in front of him, patient with its eyes gleaming. The fox had three tails; each left a trail of red dust, and they were swaying now as the fox watched Dipper.

Dipper, with his eyes wide, reached out to the animal, gaging its reaction before he gently patted its head. The fox leaned into the touch, seeming to enjoy it. It pulled away from him, its slit eyes opening, and it walked away, leaving a path of red in its wake.

Dipper followed it. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt drawn to the creature, bonded almost. He continued to follow the animal blindly, until it stopped in the opening of a glade—a meadow really.

In the middle of the field, with tall grass up to his waist, sat a small boy. His head was down, face shielded and he didn’t look up but he held his hand out expectantly.

The fox immediately bounded from Dipper’s side and nuzzled into the boy’s hand. It started to dance circles around the boy, the trail of red dust thickening, until both it and the boy were completely clouded by a plume of red smoke.

When the smoke settled to the ground, the fox was gone and the boy was speckled with red, fire-like dust.

Dipper rubbed at his eyes, dazed and confused, wondering if he had just imagined it all.

The boy beckoned him closer with his hand, his head still tilted so Dipper could not see his face. Dipper felt his legs moving involuntarily towards the boy, not that he felt like fighting it anyway. His legs gave out and he ended up seated across the child, a foot or so between the two.

Dipper opened his mouth to speak but it came out odd and jumbled so he tried again and hoped the boy could decipher his question.

“Where am I?”

The boy did not answer, he did not speak. He simply pointed to the sky with one nimble finger.

Dipper looked up at the sky, to see its churning grey and blue clouds. There was a terrible thunder that sounded throughout the meadow, almost as if the sky was wailing, and he had a feeling it would start raining soon.

 

“Dipper, Dipper wake up you lazy butt.”

He was shoved harshly, causing him to tumble out of bed and land on the ground in a heap, his legs tangled with covers.

Moaning in pain, he rubbed the small of his back and glared at his sister. She seemed to be having a tough time containing her laughter.

“Come on get ready before Grunkle Stan leaves without us,” she said after she had quelled her amusement.

Dipper raised a brow as he heaved himself off the ground. “Where are we going?”

Mabel grinned, her hips swaying as she walked towards the bedroom door. “Greasy’s!”

Dipper gathered the blankets in his arms and rearranged his bed, before turning back to his sister.

“Uh, I think I’ll pass this time,” he fiddled with his bedhead trying to tame it a bit.

Mabel’s face fell. “Aw, why?”

Dipper shrugged slightly. “I’m not feeling too good.”

Mabel narrowed her eyes at him, knowingly. “You’re not still thinking about going back in the forest alone, right?”

Dipper shook his head and quickly turned around, knowing that he couldn’t successfully lie to his sister while looking at her.

“I didn’t sleep too well. Maybe I’m coming down with something…”

He heard slight shuffling behind him before his sister started cooing. “Aw, Dipper. Want me to bring you something back?”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled and with that she was gone.

\--

Dipper huffed in frustration and leaned against a nearby tree. He eyed the patch of dead earth suspiciously, his mind trying to conjure up plausible theories and piece the information together. He had long abandoned the journal, realizing that the usually life-saving book was not of much use in this situation.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what standing in the middle of the forest glaring at a piece of land would accomplish, but it was all he had in mind.

Stumped and clearly out of ideas, Dipper decided to return home before Mabel or anyone else realized he was gone.

He rubbed his dry, irritated eyes, sleep beckoning him. Which made no sense considering he had only woken up a few hours ago and had managed to sleep more than he had in a long while. Maybe his body was just drowsy, not used to a full seven hours of sleep—a jet lag of his own creation.

When he slipped into the Shack, he grabbed an apple, recalling that he hadn't eaten today and if Mabel was here she’d probably would’ve already shoved an entire buffet down his throat.

He snuck into the shower when he heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hide and avoid his family. Maybe it was his guilty conscious eating away at him for lying about going back to the forest. But it wasn’t like anything imperative had happened. Besides he needed a shower; Lord knows he didn’t get enough of them.

He ran a hand through his damp hair and listened to the tell-tale footsteps of his sister running up the stairs.

There was a rhythmic knock at the bathroom door to announce her presence before she peaked in.

“You’re showering? This is a miracle,” Mabel said, giggling.

Dipper grunted and popped his head out of shower, scowling. “Get out.”

She ran her finger over the edge of the door and glanced up at him. “There’s pancakes in the microwave if you want any.”

Dipper nodded at her, shifting slightly on his feet. “Okay. Can you close the door now Mabel?”

His sister’s eyes widened and small laugh escaped her lips. “Sorry bro-bro.”

He closed his eyes and listened to the bathroom door close shut, and he wondered if it would start raining soon.

\--

For the next few days, much to his family’s disapproval, Dipper returned to the forest, to the same patch of dead land. He searched the surrounding land, read every page of the Journal and his own findings—he even laid in the spot he woke up in, thinking it might trigger some memories. And each day his determination diminished.

By the end of the month he had given up hope and had return to his usual day of surveying the shop and wandering around town with Mabel and their friends.

He was stocking the shelves of the Shack with Goblin snow-globes when something outside the window caught his eye. He watched the window for a few moments, his fingers tightly wrapped around a globe, but the seconds passed by, dull and ordinary, so he returned to his work; disregarding it as a passing bird and scolded his wild imagination.

There was a loud crash from outside that caused him to jump and let a white snow-globe slip through his fingers and shatter into pieces.

Dipper groaned, bending down to pick up the remains of the once glass sphere. A small piece dug into his thumb and a prickle of red bloomed from the cut. He frowned at the mess he had caused, and it was then that he realized that the shards had been perfectly broken into even triangles.

His thought process was reeled back in when another bang vibrated from outside the store. Broken globe forgotten, Dipper got up to investigate.

When he saw nobody on the front porch he rounded to the side of the house where he found a large red fox. It was perched on top of a toppled garbage can, its wide black eyes watching him expectantly.

It hopped down from the can and much to Dipper’s fear, started to circle around him, tangling between his legs, causing him to lose his balance and let out a very manly yelp. He caught himself on the side of the house and sent an angry scowl to the creature.

The fox tilted its head to the side, feigning innocence and turned to run, revealing three long, red-dusted tails.

Dipper’s breath caught in his throat. “Hey, wait!”

He ran after the creature, dodged between the tree line and hopping over shrubs. He tumbled over the root of a tree and halted to catch his breath.

He whirled around, looking for the fox but it had disappeared, seemingly vanishing into thin air.

The foliage and dead leaves that covered the forest ground was swept up the howling wind. His hair whipped at his face and he had to shield his eyes with his forearm to avoid getting dirt in his eyes.

With a narrowed gaze, he saw a small figure duck behind a nearby tree.  Dipper was about to call out to whatever it was that hid behind the tree, when he felt a drop of water on his cheek.

He glanced up at the churning, grey sky and decided to return home before he was caught in a rainstorm.

When he reached edge of the forest he saw Stan’s car pull up to the front of the house. He ran over quickly knowing it would raise suspicions if he stayed near the forest. Mabel stepped out the car, groceries piled in her arms, threatening to fall to the ground any minute.

Dipper rushed over to her grabbing a few bags before they toppled over onto the ground.

Mabel let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Dip.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and made his way into the kitchen, beginning to put away the food. “You finally convinced Stan to go to the supermarket,” he stated.

She grinned at him and threw a look over her shoulder at their Grunkle who was coming in through the door, cursing under his breath about rude cashiers. He narrowed his eyes at the twins as he set the bags down, rubbing his lower back.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the shop?” Stan grumbled at Dipper.

Dipper’s brows shot up; he had completely forgotten about his job. Laughing nervously, he glanced at his sister, begging for her to save him.

She gave him a sympathetic look and turned to usher Stan into the living room. “Grunkle Stan did you hear about the new episode of Ducktective?”

He locked eyes with his twin mouthing a grateful thank you, before he slipped back outside to get the remainder of the groceries.

\--

Sleep came in odd periods. His usual four to five hours of rest soon stretched to seven and then nine. Each time he roused, he felt even more exhausted than before his head hit his pillow. He was drowsy, lethargic, walking around and working shifts in half zombie-mode, not even noticing when people spoke to him. It got to the point where he was starting to get lulled to sleep outside of the usual hours of the night. He would be reading a book and wake up drooling all over the pages or slumped over the cashier desk in the Shack for a few minutes before Stan yelled at him.

He stopped having dreams. Or at least he stopped being able to remember, which struck him as odd, considering both of the twins had impeccable memory of their dreams.

Dipper exhaled, flipping the page of a new book, which he couldn’t for the life of him, focus on. With each passing minute his eyelids became heavier and his soft bed became more tempting. He put down the book, deciding that short nap couldn’t hurt anybody.

==

Something in the night shifted. Darkened. The sky was an odd hue of dark red and the moon was unusually large, almost occupying the entire sky.

Dipper was standing next to the totem pole, looking out at the forest’s inviting opening. He had no idea how he got there or what time of day it was, but something inside him deeply desired to delve into the woods. And so he did.

He kept walking, languidly, until the trees started to thin out in tall grass.

He reached a familiar meadow of dried dead grass and small read flowers. In the middle stood the silhouette of a young boy. The boy’s dark hair swayed slightly as if the wind was blowing against his face, but when Dipper rose his hand to feel the air, he found it to be still and dense.

There was movement next to the boy’s feet that caught Dipper’s attention. It was a fox and when its pointed face and large, bleak eyes turned to face him, the boy did as well.

Dipper felt his lids flutter, heavy with sleep and when the boy reached out his hand, he couldn’t help but reach out as well.

When their hands were about to touch, the boy dropped his arm quickly and the fox came to guard in front of him, baring its teeth. Dipper’s heart sped up, and for a short second he thought he had done something to anger the two, but he then realized that the animal’s ferocity was directed at something behind him.

He wanted to turn but before he could, he felt the hot breath of someone whispering into his ear.

_“Stay awake. It’s safer to stay awake.”_

\--

When Dipper awoke to the erratic thumping of his heart and the sticky, sheen of sweat on his brow, he realized it was the middle of night.

He glanced over at his sister’s sleeping figure, and attempted to relax himself. He remembered little from the dream, all except the warning that had been whispered to him. The voice was eerily familiar and he couldn’t place who it belonged to—he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know either way.

He got up and shifted quietly over the triangular window and sat in his desk chair. He sat there for the rest of the night, watching the moon, contemplating little. He felt the sensation akin to being watched. It made the hairs on his arms raise and the sweat on his chest cool, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Dipper are 16 btw


	2. Neutralized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: major depictions of gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapters pretty short because i didnt want to combine it with the rest because it would just be this overload of plot. but i will post the next one soon. also Bill will show up next chapter.

 

For the next few days Dipper avoided sleep like the plague. At first it wasn’t too hard to fall back into his usual routine of one-nighters. It gave him more time to catch up on everything he had neglected over the past few weeks. He read books he had left off mid-page, researched cases with a few loose ends he had never tied. But as the hours grew longer, he grew wearier and his bed grew ever more inviting.  By the third day the sensation felt less welcoming and more hostile. Like his mind was not begging for sleep but demanding, threatening.

Ever since he had heard that voice in his dream—its warning—an anxiety had swelled inside him at the thought of sleep. Recently, his rest had been devoid of dreams. That lulling, rich voice was the only thing that had breached the surface of his memories. If it was the only time he could remember something from his dreams, it seemed more natural to heed the warning.

He shrugged the thoughts away, focusing his energy instead on the task at hand. He was manning the shack alone since it was early in the morning and the rest of the crew were still not awake. The boy doubted that anyone would come stumbling into the shop at such ungodly hours but he needed to get the hours over with and better now than when it was bustling with tourists.

Dipper slid onto his elbows, stomach leaning against the counter as he eyed the store. He glanced at a shelf where a jar of goblin eyes sat. The eyes locked gaze with him and blinked. Dipper jumped and opened his eyes wider, but this time around the glossed over eyeballs did not move.

He ran a hand over his face, rounding it up to mere exhaustion. Sliding, down the length of the wall he decided it wouldn’t matter if he sat down for a few moments; it wasn’t like there was anyone around to scold him for it.

His thoughts began to buzz and felt himself drift.

His hand clasped to another's. The child was tugging on his wrist, dragging him further and further into slumber, the murmurs of the dark walls of his mind. And then the hand tightened around him, a bruising pain and the voices became alarmingly loud, as if they were yelling angrily. And then Dipper was set free from the grasp and was pushed back, plunged into what felt like cold water.

Dipper woke with a jolt, his entire body flushed with a cold sweat and a resounding voice in his mind.

_“Stay Awake.”_

He clutched at his chest, his eyes wide, anticipating for the booming voice to speak again, but it didn’t. He passed a hand over his forehead, wiping away the sheen of sweat that had formed there. When he brought his hand down something caught his attention.

Dipper’s left wrist had rings of dark, almost black bruises. When he touched them they were still tender and sore.

There was something undeniably wrong and it seemed as if there were two forces, entities in his mind. One so desperately coaxed him into sleeping and the other demanded he stayed awake. The boy, the one that dragged him in the dream and had left a mark, felt eerily familiar, and Dipper wondered if he had been his dreams all along.

Dipper jumped when he heard the sound of someone bounding down the steps. He scurried up and dusted his clothes off and right before the door open he decided it would be best to hide his hand behind his back.

Mabel stepped into the Shack in her pink and purple pajamas and scanned her gaze throughout the Shack until she met his. She relaxed when she saw him and walked over to the counter.

“I was looking for you,” she glanced over his form before she continued. “Still not sleeping?”

Dipper shook his head and ran a hand, the uninjured one, through his hair.

Mabel pouted, her big brown eyes welled with worry. “Dipper…how long has it been since you slept?”

He chewed on his lower lip and admitted sheepishly that it had been four days since he slept.

“God. I don’t understand. You were sleeping so much before; I thought your insomnia was cured.”

Dipper opened his mind to say that no, this problem wasn’t due to insomnia, but Mabel had already cut him off.

“I think you should see someone. This is seriously getting dangerous, Dipper. You have to sleep. Have the pills not been working? Obviously, the pills haven’t been working or you wouldn’t be awake now… do you think they could raise the dosage and that will help? Or maybe change the,” she was interrupted when Dipper told her to stop.

“No Mabel, this doesn’t have to do with any of that.”

She looked at him confused, and he wondered how he would be able to put this lightly.

“There’s something wrong. Ever since I went missing that day I’ve been sleeping more. And it’s not because I’m more tired, actually I stopped taking the medication completely,” he fidgeted in place. “It’s almost like I’m being…dragged into sleep by something and when I wake up I can’t remember a thing from my dream but I having a feeling that something happened, something important but I just don’t know what it is.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “You think there’s something in your brain?”

“Well yeah…I guess you can put it that way. Anyway, I didn’t mention it earlier because it didn’t seem important but then, well,” Dipper brought his hand from behind his back and held it out to Mabel.

His sister gasped in horror and quickly went to inspect the injury. “Dipper…you something did this to you?”

He nodded and lowered his hand back to his side. “There’s more. A couple days ago I woke up and I remember someone telling me that it was safer to stay awake. And that’s why I haven’t been sleeping. But it seems like whatever did this,” he rose his hand, “is not too happy about it. When I just fell asleep it was dragging me by this hand and then I woke up and that other voice, the one that warned me before, said to stay awake. Except, Mabel it wasn’t in the dream. I heard it when I was awake already.”

Mabel immediately reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Dipper we need to call Grunkle Ford. This is too dangerous.”

Dipper stopped her. “No! I already called him and he didn’t answer. He must be busy.”

Mabel rose her brow at him. “Then we at least need to tell Stan.”

Dipper shook his head. “No I can figure this out on my own. Besides, Stan couldn’t do much about it anyway so it’s no point in worrying him.”

Mabel smiled unconvincingly at him. “Okay, Dipper. But tell me if anything else happens.”

\--

Dipper sat up in bed, the palm of his hands pressed tightly to his eyes. He had fallen asleep again to be yet again abruptly pulled out of it. He continued to remember his dreams, each starring a small boy; it made sleep sound a lot less pleasing and he avoided it at all costs.

But he knew he couldn’t continue this way for much longer. His body was already giving in, surrendering to exhaustion, growing weaker with each waking hour. He sported a constant migraine as if there was something inside pounding at the walls of his mind with each steady pluck of his heartstrings. Each time he stood his legs threatened to buckle and collapse under his weight and it didn’t help much that the room was in a continual spinning axis.

Dipper knew fairly well the dangers of sleep deprivation, but he also knew that if slept he would be in a much more immediate and peril situation.

Dipper pushed himself off the bed, steadying himself with the desk chair next to him before ambling down to the kitchen. Appetite was another thing that had recently increased.

As he descended the stairs he stopped short when he heard a muttering of sorts. It took a few moments to realize the voices weren’t real or at least not physically. They were distant and muted hisses in an indistinguishable language, and it was when he took a moment to listen to them that they stopped.

He shook his head lightly and proceeded to the kitchen. Dipper was  heating up what he hoped to be non-expired food when he heard voices again. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize that these voices were recognizable and belonged to his sister and Stan.

He tiptoed towards the living room, honing in on the conversation.

“…something wrong, Grunkle Stan.” That was Mabel.

“…doesn’t make sense…used to sleep so much and now…” That was Stan.

“He told me that he thinks…something in his brain…arms were covered in bruises! And he didn’t want me to call Uncle Ford…”

“…call him?”

“…no, yes I did…says he’ll be here in few days…thinks there’s something inhabiting his mind.”

Dipper tore away from the conversation. His mind sounding off alarms at the mention of Ford coming. He tried to continue to listen but the buzzing, the mumbling had grown strong, to the point where it completely drowned out anything else.

He pressed his face into his palms, fingers tightening around strands of hair. Dipper winced in pain when they started yelling, muted cries of agony and rage.

Stumbling backward he bumped into the kitchen counter.

He needed to get away.

They were so loud.

They told him to run.

He needed to get away.

Dipper ran. His feet attempting to catch up to the speed of his thoughts, and he kept running. Whenever he tripped over a rock or a branch the voices got so loud it felt as if his head would explode in agony. He scuttled up, his body wrecked with anxiety and tore his way through the forest.

The forest.

The voices numbed.

He reached up to touch his temple and then let his fingers dip into the moisture below his ear lobes. When he pulled his hand back into his vision it was coated with dark blood.

And they screamed. And he screamed with them.

It felt like the ground was swaying beneath him, the sky impending, the trees prickling limbs grasping out at him, catching at his exposed wrists and ankles.

Dipper collapsed to the ground, in a heap of tears, pain-soaked wails torn out of his throat. 

His mind ached and he felt as if his heart was going to burst from its confines at any moment. He turned onto his back, cradling his head in his fragile arms and watched as the sky began to darken.

Dipper was plunged into sudden pitch black, and his chest clenched painfully, constricting and pleading for air, his body frigid with cold as if he was dropped into an ocean. And then there were cold stone-like hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing and releasing, teasing him with death.

He gasped and began to hit the boy on top of him, pushing and scratching but it didn’t move an inch.

It frowned down at him, its wet black bangs clinging to his forehead hanging low but not low enough to cover the dark sockets devoid of life that consumed the majority of his pallid face. Every time the boy crushed his throat a wave of freezing water passed over them, drenching them.

Dipper began to cry. He pleaded and begged and when it released him finally, he began to sob.

The boy wiped at its face, brushing away unshed tears. And then its hand descended, shaking as if this was against its will.

It pressed one cool, dry thumb to his forehead swiping it gently across Dipper’s brow, in a caring movement. Dipper croaked in fear, his head flinching, but he dared not to move out from under the creature.

The boy smoothed his eyelids closed and Dipper abided it, his heart shaken with fright.

He waited with baited breath.

The first thing to reach his mind was his own deafening screams, as the boy dug his fingers into Dipper’s eyes, stirring them and pulling until the eyeballs pulled free.

Head exploding with pain, he screamed and cried until he could hear nothing else, not even the shallow waves of the water.

And then something gruesome and rounded was shoved into his mouth and then another, and he tasted the bitter iron of blood. The boy thrusted his hand into Dipper’s mouth, pushing down the objects until they were lodged firmly in his throat. Dipper gagged around the impossibly long appendage as it slid back out and the weight on his stomach lifted.

Dipper threw his head back, heaving, his body desperately trying to rid itself of the blockage in his throat. But he couldn’t. And he lay there, spasms shaking his limbs, in a mixture of his own spit and blood until his body grew too tired and he finally found rest. 


	3. Resurrection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> point out mistakes bc im sure theres a ton

Mabel’s attention was torn away from Grunkle Stan when a crashing sound resonated from the kitchen.

Furrowing her brows she turned to look at Stan, their faces a perfect reflection of confusion. She wondered if Dipper had wandered into the kitchen after days of staying in bed. Glancing back at Stan, she decided to head into the kitchen to investigate.

Her widened eyes barely caught Dipper flying out the front door. Frantically she yelled for Stan, before running off after her brother. After flying off the front porch it took her eyes quickly met with her brother’s frantic figure; he was stumbling, sprinting towards the forest.

“Dipper!” She called out and received no response.

She called out again but when it became apparent that he couldn’t hear her, she took off after him. The moment he had entered the tree, his sister following swiftly behind him, he disappeared—seemingly into thin air.

She yelled in despair, calling out Dipper’s name, running and ducking between trees. Mabel felt her eyes burn with tears of frustration as she searched. She ran and hollered, but to no avail. It seemed as if she was stuck in a loop of the same menacing trees and the dense foliage of the forest.

Something was disturbingly off.

She had ran past a tree when she felt the wind knocked out of her chest and she landed straight on her back.

Coughing and spluttering, she twisted her body around and into a kneeling position, looking for whatever had rammed into her.

But there was nothing.

No animals, no people, no monsters. Not even a sound broke through the forest, only the pants of her panicked breath.

Mabel drew her legs into her chest and rested her head against them.

_Think Mabel, think._

After telling herself to calm down for several minutes, she decided that the best option was to go find Stan and recruit their friends to help look for Dipper.

Her stomach knotted in anxiety at the eerie familiarity of the entire situation.

She picked herself off the ground and started making her way back home, her heart heavier with each passing second.

Sound slowly began to seep back into the damp forest and at the thundering noise of the clouds ahead Mabel realized it was beginning to rain.

Wiping her brow of water she continued forward and only stopped when something caught her eyes. Something red and dark up ahead staining a large stone. As she inched closer it became apparent exactly what that red stain was.

With shaking limbs she quickly began following the small trail of blood stains that led to a small, dark clearing.

And when her eyes trailed up they landed on the unmistakable body of her brother; he lay on his side, his front facing away from Mabel.

Cries bubbled over her lips. A constant string of whispered, ‘No’s’.

_It can’t be him. It’s not him. Not him._

_Couldn’t possibly be…_

She crouched, breathe baited and held, and reached out with her shaking fingers to turn the body over.

A scream tore out of her throat as she stumbled backward.

Mabel covered her mouth with her palm; it was sticky with sweat and dirt and she had to bite down on her hand to contain her wails.

She clenched her eyes, but no matter what she did she could not get the image of her brother’s mauled face out of her head.

\--

Mabel wasn’t sure how long she sat there; the forest around her darkening as night strolled into town. She wasn’t sure when she stopped screaming—when she stopped crying. She wasn’t sure if it was what lead her Grunkle to them.

But he was here now. And he held her, sobbing into her shoulder, and she wondered who was comforting who any longer.

After a few minutes of being embraced, she was released and she watched Stan with lazy eyes pull out the phone that sat in her jacket pocket.

He was calling someone.

She wondered why he never carried the cellphone the twins had gifted them on Christmas.

Mabel focused on the crystals that fell from her Grunkle’s pained eyes and the tension in his jaw as he spoke frantically, and it was suddenly all gone.

==

When she wakes she’s sitting on the porch of the Shack and everything is serene. Until she realizes it isn’t.

The greys and blacks begin to seep into her vision and her bones are shaking with sudden fear.

She’s in the mindscape.

Mabel feels a tingling warmth behind her and she sees a dim yellow light casting her shadow. She turns slowly to face the front door.

And there he is: Bill Cipher, in all of his glory peering down at her with his one large eye, and she can see the pride and excitement that flashes in the orb.

 _“Well, well, well, well, well. If it isn’t one of my favorite meatsacks!”_ Bill’s voice rings clear and loud through the Mindscape and she could swear it was deeper and more intimidating than she remembered.

She narrows her eyes at him and tries to ground herself. “What do you want Bill?”

Bill hovers slightly for a moment before he points his cane in her direction. _“No, no, Shooting Star. Shouldn’t it be I asking that question?”_

She can almost feel him grinning down condescendingly at her.

Mabel knows what he means but she’d be damned if she was going to say it.

Bill floats closer to her, to her eye level and minimizes his size. _“Let’s cut to the chase, kid. We both want Pine Tree alive; albeit, for different reasons. And you know I can do that for you. All you have to do is ask.”_

Mabel’s heart does a leap in her chest at the thought of bringing Dipper back. She swallows the thick saliva that has collected in her mouth before she opens it to speak.

“Y-You can bring him back?”

 _“Of course I can!”_ Bill flies in a circle around her before settling back into her vision. _“What kind of demon would I be, if death surpassed me?”_

Mabel practically pounces on the triangle with despair. “Then bring him back!”

 _“Woah there, kiddo.”_ He hovers backwards as if he sensed the anticipation in her joints.

“You said you wanted him back to! So what’s the problem?” She all but screams at him.

_“Shooting Star, use some common sense. Yes I can bring back the dead, but it’s not so simple. There’s an equilibrium to maintain, life for life, and all that jazz.”_

Mabel shrinks back onto her knees, her hope quickly quelled. “You’re saying someone…someone else has to die?”

Bill makes a gun with his finger and points it at her. _“Bingo!”_

She shakes her head, her will starting to splinter apart. “I-I can’t kill someone Bill.”

The demon lets out a low chuckle, light and airy. _“You crack me up kid! Any life force will do, preferably a larger one but it doesn’t have to be another human if you’re not up for the challenge.”_

Her eyes widen comically and she leans towards the demon, suddenly much more open to the deal he’s proposing.

“What do I have to do?”

Bill hums happily, his body more vibrant. _“You choose the life you’ll take just make sure the soul is big. Like a deer or wolf. That’s the easy part. You’re going to have to prepare a ritual for me.”_

“Why?” She questions.

 _“This is a deal after all, Shooting Star. You get your brother back, I get a body. Getting bored of this old form, need a new one,”_ he beams visibly at her. _“I know what you’re thinking, kid. I’m not going to cause any harm to you or any of the residents in Gravity Falls.”_

“Really?” She can’t help but feel it’s all too good to be true.

_“I’m not going to lie, kid. The process of bringing Pine Tree back will be…beneficial at least. It will create a bond between the two of us so that anyone who hurts me hurts Pine Tree, and vice versa.”_

Mabel shifts on her knees. “Why would you risk yourself like that?”

It takes the dream demon a few moments to answer. _“I told you, I really want that vessel.”_

She nods, knowing that’s not the full answer, but being satisfied by it none the less. “Okay…I’ll do it.”

Bill’s body thrums with energy, possibly content. _“One more thing before we seal the deal.”_

Mabel’s fingers twitch on her thigh; she knew this would happen.

_“All of this doesn’t matter if Dipper doesn’t accept.”_

Confusion is clear on her face and she can’t help but mumble out a, “What?”

 _“I can bring Pine Tree’s body back easily, but the soul is a bit trickier. I’m going to have to find it and when I do it’s really up to him if he wants to come back. Unfortunately, for both of us I can’t just take souls unwillingly.”_ As he speaks the buzz of his energy quiets a bit.

Mabel runs the words over in her head before coming to stance.

“It’s worth a try isn’t it?” She reaches her hand out in offering.

Bill brightens and if he had a mouth he’d be grinning. _“I like the optimism Shooting Star.”_

He meets her hand in a warm hold and blue flames erupt over their fingers; it sends a cold burning sensation over her skin but she doesn’t pull away.

_“Pleasure making business with you.”_

\--

There’s the distant sound of her name being called; the voice was muffled by the thick blanket of lethargy.

She was being held by large, strong arms and she felt a wave of tranquility pass through her, her mind soothed when she realized it was Stan.

Opening her eyes, Mabel gazed into the panicked eyes of her Grunkle, watching as they the fear was soon replaced with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” he whispered.

She reached out to grab his hand and squeezed it gently. 

“Grunkle Stan,” she whispered weakly, “Can we go home?”

Stan exhaled lightly and nodded, soon carrying her off to the Shack, not being able to give his nephew’s corpse another glance.

 

When they reached the house, Stan placed her onto the couch before sitting in the armchair a look of defeat stretched across his features.

Mabel watched him as he picked up the home phone and began to dial a number.

“Who are you calling?”

Stan didn’t look up at her when he answered. “The police.”

Mabel’s eyes widened and she anxiously looked for an answer.

“You can’t,” she shouted in low whisper.

Stan looked back up at her, waiting for an explanation.

Struggling to find one she simply said, “There’s nothing they can do.”

“T-They won’t find the actual killer. You know what Dipper said; what killed him…it isn’t human.”

Simply speaking of Dipper in the past tense made her heart clench painfully; but she had the resolve, she knew what she had to do. For Dipper. For herself.

“It’s better if we wait for Grunkle Ford…maybe he can help. Maybe there’s a way to get him back.”

Stan gave her a pitiful look.

“If there was something we could do to get him back, wouldn’t you do it?” She locked eyes with, silently asking for approval for what she was going to go through with.

Stan gave her a small, watery smile. “Without a doubt. Without a doubt, Mabel.”

\--

Mabel waited a few hours in her bed making sure her Grunkle was asleep before she left. When she was sure she had waited long enough, she silently walked over to Dipper’s side of the room and started to look through the medical cabinet they had recently set up.

She needed to make an enchantment elixir to capture the animal if she wanted to do it quick and fast; it was something her brother had taught her the summer before. But they had never practiced it, save for only once, because of the repercussions.

Checking the glass bottles and mason jars, she gathered a few and shoved them in her bag along with a flashlight.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a sharp knife before slipping out the front door.

Mabel took a few calming breaths before she set off into the forest.

She started heading east, towards a small pond where she saw animals gather regularly. If she was lucky she’d spot one.

When she reached the clearing, she waited behind a row of bushes, using the dim moonlight to scan the vicinity.

Sure enough there was a fawn with its mother drinking from the waterway. Mabel quickly rummaged through her bag for the glass bottles.

A few teardrops of a water nymph, a scoop of blue sap, and blessed water to dilute it. She swished the glass, swallowing thickly before she downed the contents.

Immediately she started hacking at the burning sensation that settled in her throat and it took her a few moments to collect herself.

She wiped her hand under her nose and faced the deer. Remembering what Bill had said about the size of the animal, she fixed her attention on the adult deer.

She softly blew in its direction, a cloud of bright blue mist pouring out her mouth and settling on the deer’s coat.

Almost immediately it turned in her direction looking straight at her with its dazed, blue glowing eyes. Mabel straightened up and signaled for the animal to follow, and it did obediently, leaving its offspring by the waterhole.

She began to guide it back to where Dipper was.  

Her stomach clenched violently as they neared the body and the putrid smell began to penetrate the forest air. Covering her lower face with the elbow of her arm, she pushed aside a long branch that revealed the horrid scene.

She immediately averted her gaze and tried to remember what Bill had instructed her to do. Squeezing both her eyes and fists, Mabel gathered the resolve to continue.

_“Do it on a bright night. Best do it tonight, if you want to keep the body intact.”_

She gazed at the glowing half-moon and then at the creature that stared at her patiently.

Mabel began to ring the body with an abundance of pebbles and rocks, gagging a few times at the smell, but continued until Dipper was enclosed in a tight circle. She then stood, dusting her knees, and searched for a large stick; using it to draw yet another larger circle in the dirt, around the rock one she had already constructed. She drew three lines of connection that tethered to the inner ring, making the lines create an upside down triangle.

She scuttled over to the deer, ushering it closer to the body. Pulling the kitchen knife from her book-bag, Mabel gave one last apologetic look at the deer and cut into the front of its chest. The animal flinched slightly, but Mabel had cut only enough for the ritual and not to kill. The blood dripped onto Dipper’s cold body, and what didn’t she collected in her hands and smoothed it across his pallid forehead.

Mabel let out a shaky breath and placed her hands on his chest.

“For thou who sleeps in earth and clay,” she began.

“Heed this call, rise up and obey the Eye of Providence, treck on through the Mortal Door, assemble flesh and walk once more.”

She peeked open an eye to the eerie silence. She hadn’t finished the incantation but surely something should be happening by now.

_“You need blood, and lots of it, dearie. Don’t be shy now. It won’t even feel a thing.”_

A chill ran up her spine at the whispered words that spoke to her, carried by the cool night wind.

Her hand trembling, Mabel grabbed the knife again and stood next to the doe. She placed the knife under its chin, holding its head between her arms as a few tears slipped from her ducts.

“I’m sorry.”

And with one swift motion of the wrist a cascade of gushing blood poured from the wound and drenched the body below. The deer fell to its side, motionless and Mabel crouched with it.

Sniffling, deciding not to contemplate her morality at the moment, she placed her hands on Dipper’s temples this time.

“F-For thou who sleeps in earth and clay,” she spoke, hoarse and dry. “Heed this call, rise up and obey the Eye of Providence, treck on through the Mortal Door…”

She stilled momentarily, looking through Dipper’s torn eyes, and it reminded it her why exactly she had to continue.

“Treck on…through the Mortal Door, assemble flesh and walk once more, bind thyself to Him and let thine souls intertwine, allow Him to live once again and let His reign come upon us all.”

A tremendous clap of thunder resounded, and Mabel jolted backward as a jar of electricity traveled from her fingertips to Dipper.

And it began to pour.

***

He waited patiently, surveying the girl work through the cover of the Mindscape. He noticed her hesitate, and he couldn’t have that if he wanted to succeed.

So he irked her, whispering through the gap between dimensions.

_“You need blood, and lots of it, dearie. Don’t be shy now. It won’t even feel a thing.”_

Bill’s eye twitched with amusement as he watched her poor little heart struggle with the challenge of killing. He turned from the scene, deciding it was time to go weed out Dipper’s soul from the Void.

It wasn’t too drastically difficult for the demon to find his way, even if he had few reasons to visit the dimension. After all, what need would he have for damned souls when he put them there in the first place?

He weaved through the dark field light with orbs of a million souls, searching for the right one. Eventually, he came across one that burned just a smudge brighter than the others and expanded it in his hands letting it grow in shape and diameter until it finally formed the replica of what was once Dipper Pines.

The boy was a vision as he floated mid-air, his hair pushed back to reveal that intriguing birthmark. Just seeing him, made vibrations of thrill thrum through Bill’s body.

_“Well it’s good to see you Pine Tree.”_

Dipper’s eyes peeled open slowly, dreary and heavy with sleep, and he peered at the demon with such clean emotion.

“W-where,” he whispered faintly, still not accustomed to talking. Bill chuckled lightly; it always tickled him to see how quickly souls unraveled, how easy they were to forget. Many lost the knowledge to speak or understand and simply floated by. But Dipper was not that far gone. No, he would be no fun to play with in such a state.

 _“The Void. It might come as a shock to you kid, but you’re dead and I,”_ he placed a hand over his chest dramatically _, “have come to save you.”_

That got the cogs turning in the boy’s brain. “Dead?”

Bill blinked his eye once in a mock nod. _“You were too reckless, Pine Tree. Let a nasty parasite in that pretty little head of yours, and boy did it wreak havoc.”_

He hovered closer to the translucent white boy. _“But luckily for us your sister is pretty desperate to get you back.”_

Pine tree furrowed his brow. “Us?”

The demon chuckled at the child’s naivety. _“Of course, kid. I wouldn’t have spent so much time cultivating that little brain of yours for nothing. Anyhow, I’m here to discuss the terms.”_

“What terms?” Dipper leaned forward but ended up tipping over air. Bill caught him by the arm steadying him.

_“Easy there kiddo. Gravity doesn’t work here quiet like you’re used to it.”_

Dipper straightened himself out and distanced himself from the demon.

“What terms?” he repeated.

 _“Well, at this current moment in time Shooting Star is performing a wonderful ritual to revive your body and create a new one for me!”_ Bill leaned backwards, crossing his legs leisurely. _“But to assure the spell I need your cooperation. I can’t yank a soul out of the Void whenever it please me.”_

Dipper’s eyes widened. “She is?”

_“Yes, but don’t fret. Time doesn’t apply to this place so we have all the time if needed for you to inevitably agree to my terms.”_

He lowered himself to the boy _. “So here’s the proposal, Pine Tree. Your sister finishes her end of the deal and I get a brand new body to ground me to your realm.”_

Dipper’s mouth opened in question and Bill quickly flicked the boy’s nose in disapproval.

_“I’m not done explaining, Pine Tree. And I know what you’re thinking—I already agreed not to harm anyone in Gravity Falls including your family as long as they return the favor.”_

Dipper’s face scrunched up in distaste. “Why would you agree to that?”

_“Because my dear boy, whatever happens to me happens to you and vice versa. So don’t get any ideas,” he added narrowing his eye._

Dipper narrowed his in return. “How does this benefit you then?”

Bill rolled his eye. _“I already told you. I get to walk all over your dimension. Besides it’d be nice to get out of this sinking hole and catch up with some old friends.”_

Dipper lowered his head in thought. “I really died?”

The question didn’t seem to be directed to Bill but at the boy himself, so he withheld from replying.   

The boy stayed silent for a few minutes and it began to stretch into an hour, but Bill didn’t say anything, allowing the boy at the very least to mull things over.

“And the thing,” Dipper paused. “What…killed me, will it come back?”

_“It’s completely possible.”_

Dipper’s face was strewn with fear and Bill decided to continue knowing he needed to subside the boy’s nerves if he wanted him to agree.

_“But you will be placed under my protection.”_

Dipper perked at that.

 _“And your sister as well,”_ the demon added.

Dipper nodded and Bill’s eye caught him chewing at his lip nervously. They passed into another hour of silence, occasionally interrupted by the boy’s probing questions and demands. He had to give it to him, the kid was being thorough.

“Okay,” he whispered.           

Bill brightened at this and drew closer, stretching his arm out in invitation. Dipper took it hesitantly, watching with curious eyes as blue fire consumed their laced fingers.

A tremendous clap of thunder resounded, and a jolt of electricity ran through them both. Bill glanced up murmuring under his breath.

_“Time to shine, Pine Tree.”_

***

Mabel hovered over Dipper’s body and wiped her eyes of fallen rain.

His body had been consumed in this golden light, lively and moving as if on its own accord. And everywhere it passed, his body healed and sowed itself up. When the light floated over his eye sockets it stilled momentarily before rushing into them, causing blinding gold to seep out of them.

The light was snuffed out and was replaced with a smooth pair of closed eyelids.

Mabel let out a broken sob at the sight and immediately moved to cradle her brother’s head in her lap.

She was about to check his pulse when a crack of lightning struck the earth before them, shrouding the night in white brilliant light. Mabel shielded her vision with her hand, wincing, and when she withdrew it, there was a body knelt on the forest floor.

Warm, golden skin wrapped around chiseled, lithe muscle tapering up a resilient shuck of snow white hair.

It took her a few moments to realize that it must be Bill, and a few more to notice how she had been blatantly staring at his naked, wet figure.

She averted her gaze back to the rain soaked ground.

“Jesus, Bill. You couldn’t have been a bit less dramatic with the entry,” she scowled.

A rich, loud laugh tore from the demon as he stood, modesty apparently not his main priority.

But all these thoughts were pushed aside when they heard the unmistakable sound of a first breath.

It was then that the rain ceased. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was a bit hesitant with the whole hypnotizing serum but then i remembered that this work is going to be filled with crazy magic so i might as well start now


	4. Dominion

Readjusting his grip on the sleeping boy in his arms, Bill watched idly as Mabel carefully opened the front door of the Shack. She pushed it halfway, peeking in before she nodded and held the door open for him.

Bill took in his surroundings, noting that little had changed in the last years.

Mabel ushered him over the old, creaking stairs to the twin’s bedroom. With a click of the door’s lock, the girl let out a relieved sigh.

The demon disregarded her and set Dipper on his bed, correcting his strayed limbs so he lay comfortably. Bill frowned at his actions and averted his attention to Mabel.

She was rummaging through a chest, pulling out a shirt and holding it at arm’s length.

Flicking her gaze at the demon, she walked to him and measured the shirt against his body.

“Too small,” she murmured before walking back to pull out more shirts. It took her a few tries to find a shirt that wouldn’t cling to Bill’s body like saranwrap.

Mabel handed him the shirt, boxers and a pair of jeans, before sitting on Dipper’s bed, eyeing him quietly.

The demon slipped the shirt on, before dropping the blanket around his waist to step into the underwear.

Mabel drastically covered her eyes. “Bill!”

His lips twitched amusingly at her embarrassment and continued to dress.

Hand still shielding her face, Mabel whispered, “Is it safe?”

“Safe as it’ll ever be with a demon in your bedroom, Star.”

She reluctantly peeked through her fingers to see that he was in fact clothed, and then dropped her hand. She huffed clearly, irritated, before motioning to the bed on the opposite of the room.

“You can sleep in my bed I guess. I was moving to the guest room anyway.”

He noticed the half-packed boxes by the feet of her desk, before sitting on the bare bed. He passed his hand over the mattress; it had been a while since one had been of use to him, but he knew this vessel would need to rest.

“There are no sheets,” he began, but finished short when he realized the girl had already dozed off next to her brother.

He watched them for a few minutes, wondering if either would wake, but when it became apparent they would not, he walked to the triangular window and slipped out onto the roof. He took a few moments to think, before disappearing into the forest.

\--

He bit into the top of his wrist, forcing ichor to quickly pool in his mouth, smiling nauseatingly as he swished the bitter iron taste in his mouth. He gathered a significant amount, before violently spitting it out onto the forest ground, deciding it would be enough for the summoning.

Bill licked at the wound until it stopped bleeding, his lips upturned at the familiar metallic taste.

 _“Pyronica, ego ad te venient,”_ the demon began to rehearse. _“Et munera mea suscipiet meam evocatio.”_

When the incantation was finished he moved to sit patiently on a large boulder, resting in the dim moonlight.

It wasn’t long before he sensed the presence of another demon.

_“Cipher.”_

Bill gazed at the creature before him. Pyronica sported a humanoid figure, lithe and dangerously curved, purposely seductive no doubt—but she had not shed her familiar vibrant rose flames that licked out from her skin.

_“To what do I owe the pleasure, Cipher?”_

Bill smiled indolently at the demon. “There a just a few things I wish to discuss.”

Pyronica tilted her head, emotion devoid from her expression. _“Your vessel suits you, my lord.”_

Bill caught the twist of disgust when she spoke his title but decided to let it slide for the moment.

“You like it?” He ran a hand through his alabaster hair and grinned arrogantly. “I made it myself.”

Pyronica made no further comments and waited for him to continue.

“How’s Strange these days?”

The demon perked at the sound of her Master’s name. In the last few decades Strange and himself had climbed the social hierarchy of demonic entities, becoming forces to be reckoned with, almost more so then their Golden Ages. Although, things were never as delightful as then, but it was what they wished to rebuild.

 _“He is well, why do you ask, my lord?”_ She asked, her voice laced with clear suspicion and curiosity.

“Pass on a message for me, would you darling?”

Pyronica waited impatiently for him to continue, her eye twitching slightly in annoyance.

“There’s something in Gravity Falls, something strong, that needs disposal of and I’m sure it will interest my dear brother.”

The other demon was silent, but Bill could tell she was itching to ask more.

Bill rolled his eyes and motioned for her to leave. “That is all.”

Pyronica glared at him and forced out a polite farewell, before vanishing.

Bill grinned, hopping off the boulder and heading back to the Shack. Everything was panning out just as planned, and the demon couldn’t help the surge of excitement that coursed through him.

\--

Bill is flipping through one of Dipper’s many journal findings, when he feels a swell of energy from the boy, signaling he was waking.

He turned to the twins; Mabel was on her phone, her tired eyes threatening to close, with her brother’s head on her lap.

“He’s waking,” Bill announces.

At first Mabel seems confused before she places her hand on the side of her brother’s head and looks at him expectantly.

Dipper’s eyes open slowly, like a flower’s petals unfolding in spring.

Mabel smiles fondly at him and Bill is almost afraid she’ll burst into tears but she doesn’t.

“Dipper,” she passes her hand over his forehead gently.

“Mabel?” Dipper’s brows furrow and his eyes dart like he’s searching.

“I-Mabel, I can’t-I can’t see,” Dipper shouts frantically.

Bill is overcome with a wave of anxiety and fear and he scowls, knowing that the emotions belonged to the boy and not him.

“What? What do you mean Dipper?” She grabs her brother’s face tightly. “I’m right here. Can’t you see me?”

She glares at Bill. “What does he mean?”

Bill narrows his eyes at the two, slightly irked at the change in events.

“He’s blind, Star.”

“What do you mean he’s blind?! What did you do?”

Bill’s angry retort is cut off by the sound of a knock.

From behind the door comes, “Mabel? What’s the ruckus? Are you okay?”

Dipper’s mouth opens to say something but Mabel covers it quickly.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine Grunkle Stan. I’ll be out in a second.” She gets out of the bed hurriedly and Dipper reaches for her like a frightened infant would.

She gazes at her brother and then at the demon. “Stay with him. I’ll-I’ll distract Stan.”

She leaves the room and he listens to her descending footsteps before he walks to the boy.

Dipper is trying to sit up but Bill quickly pushes him back down. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you, Pine Tree. Your body is still weak.”

“Bill?”

The demon sits on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard, opposite to the boy.

“The one and only.”

The boy moves frantically, his hands roaming over his face. There are tears in his eyes when he asks, “Why can’t I see?”

Bill chooses to leave the question hanging and instead crawls towards Dipper, looming over him. He grabs the boy’s face, causing the boy to flinch and gasp, and opens his eyelids further.

Bill looks at the irises, notices how the pupils don’t dilate in the light and leans back on knees.

“Blind as a bat, Kid.”

Dipper looks like he’s about to unload an abundance of questions and Bill silences him quickly, leaning over him again and presses his thumb to the boy’s forehead.

“Stay still,” he demands and with that Dipper is under.

==

There was a bright white light and the boy instinctively shielded his face with his arm. When the light settled in place, he dropped his arm to survey the area.

He was in front of the Shack, sitting in the middle of the lawn, his hands gripping grey tendrils of grass.

There was a shuffling behind him, and it wasn’t until he saw this strange man standing in a plain of monochrome, that Dipper realized he could _see_.

His eyes widened with realization and glee, a sense of relief and pure emotion washed over him.

The man across from him quirked an eyebrow, his eyes perceptive and discerning, raking up and down the length of Dipper's body. “Interesting. You can still see in the Mindscape.” As the man bowed towards him, face stilling a few inches from Dipper’s own, he slowly recognized that voice.

“Bill…” Dipper took in the demon’s appearance—his dark, lean figure that gained a few inches over Dipper’s own stature and his white, pristine styled hair. Bill was so close to him that Dipper could see the barely existent flecks of gold that dusted the demon’s nose and cheeks.

Dipper frowned and stepped back, remembering who he was dealing with.

“What did you do?” He accused angrily.

Bill reclined, his arm hugging his middle while the other pressed against his chest in mock exasperation. “What makes you think I had anything to do with your,” and he pulled his lower eyelid down to show the entirety of his slit eye.

“You’re the one who brought me back,” Dipper countered.

Bill caressed his own cheek and purred, “And I did a great job. Not that I’ve gotten any praise for it.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes at the demon. “How come I can see here then? The dimension you control.”

Bill shrugged and walked back into the boy’s personal space. “Beat’s me, kid.”

Dipper couldn’t help but flush brightly at the demon’s proximity, but he quickly pushed down the sickening feeling in his stomach. He was about to reply sourly, when he watched as those feline eyes twitched.

“We need to go,” Bill muttered. “Nice chatting with you, Pine Tree,” he said before he placed his hand against Dipper’s forehead and gave him one violent push backwards, sending him back into darkness.

***

Mabel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and averted her gaze from Stan, mulling over exactly how to explain her brother’s resurrection.

Stan looked at her with tired, solemn eyes. “Is everything okay, Mabel? I know what happened…I know this must be hard,” he struggled visibly to find the correct words.

Mabel twirled her hair between her anxious fingers. “There’s something I need to tell you, Grunkle Stan.”

Stan looked at her with worry. “What is it?”

Mabel motioned to the dining table. “You should sit down…” She reluctantly seated herself across from her Grunkle and rested her joined hands on the table.

“Dipper he’s,” she met his eyes and continued. “Dipper’s not dead.”

Stan knitted his brows, his voice tight and terse. “What do you mean? I saw him, you saw him. Mabel,” he reached over to hold her hand. “I know this is hard to accept, but he’s gone.”

Mabel pushed back from his hold and got up from the table. “No, you don’t understand. I made a deal.”

Stan froze momentarily before he got up as well. “You what?!”

Mabel shrunk back from his booming voice. “I-I made a deal with Bill. But it’s okay! He’s fine and alive and upstairs.”

Stan’s question muffled her explanation. “Bill Cipher?”

Mabel’s gaze flickered anxiously to the staircase and to her feet. “Yes.”

There was a sudden thud from above them that silenced the two of them.

Stan glared at her and pointed at the stairs. “You better tell me now that that’s your pig of yours or I swear to god Mabel!”

Mabel couldn’t get any words out before Stan was running towards her bedroom. She ran after him frantically, scaling the stairs.

“Wait! Stan I can explain—”

But before she could he already busted the bedroom door open to reveal Dipper strewn on the floor and a man sitting casually on the foot of his bed.

Stan stood there, paralyzed, hand still clutching to the doorknob.

“Mabel?” Dipper whispered in confusion, his blank gaze staring straight through them.

Mabel glanced at her Uncle, gaging his reaction as he stumbled backward slightly.

“Dipper,” he whispered in awe and immediately started walking towards the boy, kneeling in front of him. Mabel watched as Stan collected her brother’s face in his hands and stared at him, overcome with emotion.

But she could tell that he quickly realized something was off.

Dipper whined slightly as Stan’s hold tightened. “Grunkle Stan?”

Stan leaned closer to the boy, eyes searching. “Dipper,” he turned to Mabel, “what’s wrong with him?”

“He lost his sight somewhere during the trip to the living,” Bill answered for her, his grin widening with amusement.

She scowled at the demon and returned her attention to her family.

“He’s what?” Stan mumbled in confusion.

Dipper cringed outwardly and pushed Stan’s hands away. “Yeah…something went wrong I guess.”

Mabel watched warily as several emotions flashed on her Grunkle Stan’s face, from pity to understanding to anger.

He stood and pointed an accusing finger at Bill.

“You!” He yowled and before she knew it, Stan had his hands on Bill’s throat, constricting, as he spluttered curses at the demon.

Mabel was about to yell when she heard her brother hacking and wheezing. She quickly kneeled next to him, watching in fear as his face reddened and he clutched at his throat.

“Dipper! Dipper what’s wrong?!” She clutched his shaking shoulders, her chest clenching painfully at each of his agonizing gasps.

She pulled back from him, remembering something Bill had mentioned during their deal.

“Stan!” She ran and began tearing her Uncle away from the demon. “Stop it! Stop it, you’re hurting Dipper!”

At the mention of Dipper’s name, Stan reluctantly let go of Bill.

Bill collapsed on the floor, coughing and gasping as he desperately filled his lungs with air.

She winced at the red blotches that bloomed across the demon’s neck and turned to face her Uncle.

“You can’t hurt him.”

Stan’s face contorted. “Like hell I can’t!”

Dipper inhaled drastically. “No…We-We’re connected, you can’t hurt him.”

Bill flopped onto his back, an unsettling smile stretched across his face. “Boys right,” he mumbled languidly, “he’s mine now.”

Bill met their eyes, his own slit pupils glaring so intensely it made a small whimper escape Mabel.

_“If you even think about touching me, our little Pine Tree will suffer as well.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! so sorry about the delay, life got kinda hectic with finals, family, kcon and whatnot, but i'll probably post the next chapter sometime this week


	5. Uncharted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To be guided nor misguided  
> in love,  
> nor broken hearted.  
> But to sail in waters uncharted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "i'll update in the next week" honestly i am such a liar, guys never believe a word i say im so sorry

 

Dipper lied awake in his bed, not particularly doing much, definitely not sleeping, for much of his night.

He was alone; as far as he knew. It had taken a lengthy conversation with his sister to convince her that he would be fine, he had to learn how to do things on his own anyway. He might as well start by having the attic to himself. Just liked planned.

Well, with the exception that Bill had taken residence in Mabel’s old bed. Not that he spent much time in the room; Dipper wasn’t even sure he had slept at all since he’d become human.

He wasn’t sure where the demon was—Bill had left without a word after everyone had settled in bed. Dipper didn’t even know if he was in the house or wandering outside and he wasn’t sure if an answer would soothe his mind or only bring forth more questions.

Dipper sat up in bed, stabilizing himself, his sense of balance still awry.

No matter how much he tried he could not get himself to fall asleep. His body paralyzing with fear at the mere thought. He knew that _that boy_ , spirit, whatever wouldn’t come back and if it did he was sure Bill wouldn’t allow him to be hurt, if only to save himself from pain. He knew this, yet it did little to quell his nerves.

Standing, stumbling slightly, he leaned his weight onto the headboard. He needed to do something to occupy his racing thoughts, and with reading out of the question for the moment being, he decided to familiarize himself with the house.

Dipper tackled his room first, skimming his hand across the walls, stumbling towards areas he had memorized.

His foot hit something hard and he let out a low whine. Slowly kneeling, he ran his hands over the object he had injured himself with. As he touched the objects dimensions he concluded that it was a box, most likely one of Mabel’s.

He sighed, his breath curling in the dense air, lonely and misplaced. The emotion was ill placed, after all his sister was only moving down the hall, but it did not stop the cold that bloomed in his chest.

Dipper stood up warily, a small frown on his face and turned, running into something much larger and it sent him flying backwards, a loud yelp resonating from him.

A hand slithered around his forearm, catching him in the nick of time.

“Careful, Pine Tree. Your body isn’t just yours anymore.”

Dipper shivered at the words, implications making his cheeks burn without reason.

Bill righted him and then released him, giving the boy some much appreciated breathing room.

Dipper rubbed his arm slowly, where he had been grabbed and tilted his head in what he hoped was in the direction of the demon. “Why are you here?”

“I felt you. Did you hurt yourself or something?”

Dipper nodded lazily. “Walked into a box…I didn’t remember it being there last time,” he inhaled sharply. “Last time I could see.”

There was a long silence that had Dipper itching in the worst possible ways. It was worse now, without vision; he couldn’t see people’s expressions, couldn’t base his following words on body behavior or expressions. He was left with sound, and sound helped little with social cues.

“Well, be more careful, meat sack. Everything you feel I feel,” he paused and Dipper could practically feel the amusement dripping from his following words, “Whether it’s _pleasurable_ or not.”

Dipper spluttered with disbelief. “Oh my god, Bill.”

The demon chuckled lightly in response, the sound surprisingly calming.

His hand was grasped lightly and he followed limply as he was led back to his bed. Dipper squeezed Bill’s hand with appreciation before letting go to sit on the bed.

The matress dipped with Bill’s weight, his body angled towards the boy, regarding him with calculating eyes.

“Why were you up anyway?”

Dipper felt his chest clench painfully as he thought about his pathetic reasoning. “I was…scared.”

When he felt fingers brush against his forearm he flinched and retracted the arm.

“Relax,” Bill pulled Dipper's arm into his lap and began running soothing circles into his skin. “You’re too wired up and it makes me feel like throwing up. You humans and your abundance of emotions,” Bills sneered.

Dipper was still tense under the demon’s touch, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it the slightest bit. He exhaled gently. “You can feel that?” He asked anxiously, suddenly insecure. “How far does the connection run then?”

Bill’s touches stilled momentarily. “I’m not sure. I’ve never bounded with a human,” he spoke softly as if he was placing much thought behind each word. “We share physical pain and from what I can tell also intense emotions, like fear and panic.”

Bill’s hand retracted from Dipper, and his fingers twitched to reach out with longing.

“The rest we’ll figure out.”

Dipper nodded slowly. Hesitantly he asked, “Do you really not know what happened?”

The reply came quick. “Now what would I gain in lying?”

Dipper smirked gently. “I’m scared to ask.”

All of this was so new, overwhelming; he couldn’t grasp how quickly everything had changed. He had been dead and now he was well, and breathing and making small talk with a fearful demon.

Bill poked his head harshly and Dipper swatted the hand away.

“I can hear you thinking,” he paused when he saw the shock on Dipper’s face, “figuratively, Pine Tree.”

Dipper calmed visibly. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Do you even need to sleep?”

He could feel the demon’s warm energy shift closer to him. “I do. I suppose I’m just not used to it yet.”

Dipper grinned sheepishly and pulled at the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, I guess I’m not either.”

Bill hummed lowly, a guttural, animalistic sound that sent shivers up the boy’s spine. “I can help with that.”

Dipper cringed at how Bill had recently sent him out of the Mindscape; he had been pushed so hard he ended up falling out of the bed. “Er, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself, Pine Tree.” Bill sat up and brushed his hand along the top of Dipper’s head before he retreated to the other side of the room.

Dipper laid back in his bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. He thought about it twice before he whispered softly in the dark night, “Goodnight Bill.”

“Goodnight, Dipper.”

\--

Mabel ended up helping him downstairs in the morning, mumbling that they should probably get a walking stick for him.

“Or a dog,” he added. Mabel had positively gasped at the mention of a dog, gushing at the thought, and Dipper was glad to hear her like this: happy. Happy knowing that not everything had changed.

She was still Mabel and he was still Dipper, even if there were a few tweaks and changes. The Mystery Twins were still together, and that’s all that mattered.

They sat at the kitchen table, Bill somewhere on the kitchen counter, eating out of a jar of peanut butter—which had gotten a rouse out of Mabel, who had chastised him to get off. Not that that he had listened.

She had relinquished and began making breakfast. “What do you want, bro-bro?”

Dipper’s face scrunched up comically. “Maybe something easy, you know…”

She didn’t reply so he assumed she had agreed.

She set something in front of him and he carefully placed his hands around it; a bowl.

“It’s cereal,” she said. When she realized Dipper was reluctant to move she placed the spoon in his hand.

“You okay there, kiddo?” Bill snickered from the kitchen counter, clearly amused with the boy’s struggles.

Dipper frowned, realizing that now mundane tasks had become a lot more challenging. “I’m fine, _Cipher_ ,” he spat sourly.

“Don’t be angry, little tree. I’m sure we’ll find a solution soon,” Bill cooed condescendingly.

Mabel scowled at Bill, slapping him lightly on the foot. “Get off the counter and leave Dipper alone.”

Bill gave an exasperated sigh but it was only a few seconds later that Dipper heard the pitter patter of his footsteps. 

Dipper ate his food cautiously, his spoon messing his mouth a few times, much to his chagrin. He tried to ignore the snickers it roused from Bill.

When he finished he sat back, playing nervously with the hem of his shirt. Mabel placed a hand over his, to stop him.

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” she reassured him, “he’s just a little shocked.”

Dipper nodded, glad that his sister had picked up on his thoughts of their Uncle.

The atmosphere was tense for a few minutes before Mabel suggested to go to town.

“That sounds like a great idea, Star.” Dipper frowned at Bill, not exactly fond about the idea of passing through town, blind and with a demon at his side; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why the idea appealed to Bill in the first place.

\--

Mabel fretted over Dipper’s appearance, muttering that he looked more a mess than usual. Dipper pushed her away, saying that yes obviously he looked worse because he couldn’t see himself in the bathroom mirror, and fixed his sunglasses.

“No need to be snappy,” she huffed and swiftly walked ahead of them.

Dipper stuttered. “Wait, did she leave? I can’t just walk on my own—Mabel!”

A hand touched his shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for, kid.”

A small ‘oh’, escaped him at Bill’s words, and mortified he reached blindly for the demon’s hand.

Bill’s hand was warm against his own, and Dipper tried desperately not to think about how soft his palm was or how it meld perfectly to his.

The demon guided him slowly, tugging at his hand and occasionally sliding it up his arm and to his shoulder so that he had better controls of Dipper’s movements. Whenever Bill stopped he stopped, when Bill sped up he did as well; it took him a few minutes to get used to the sensation of letting someone else steer him. It felt too intimate, too trusting and his situation became much more surreal.

He frowned wondering how long he would have to stay this vulnerable, a liability to his family; he tried not to entertain the thought of becoming chronically blind. He knew he shouldn’t complain. There were countless of people who were born blind or injured and it wasn’t like they had a say in the matter. It was simply dealt to them and they had to learn to cope, to continue.

He was alive.

Things were different, but he was given a second chance to breathe again, to live and prosper.

So he was blind, but he supposed it wasn’t completely devastating, he had help after all.

He squeezed the hand he held and he couldn’t be certain but he was sure Bill had turned to look at him. Dipper urged him to continue walking but the man had become dead weight, stopping him in his tracks.

“Although the prospect would certainly be humorous, I can’t just let you walk into traffic.”

Dipper tensed at the words, his hand tightening instinctively around Bill’s. He heard the demon hum in what he could only picture as amusement. 

He was about to comment when Bill pulled him closer. “Look to your right and smile.”

Dipper made a confused sound, caught off guard by the sudden demand.

“There’s a girl with Mabel and she’s waving,” hot breath brushed over the shell of his ear. “A Northwest I do believe.”

Pacifica?

Dipper did as he was told, albeit unnaturally.

“Can we go over there?” But the question was unnecessary because they were already moving.

When Bill stopped them, he could hear the girls talking and then he felt a hand placed lightly on his shoulder before pushing him softly.

“Gee Dipper, we were waving for hours. Are you blind or something?” Pacifica’s voice rung out melodic and smooth.

“Yeah, about that…” He bit his bottom lip, mulling over his explanation.

Bill placed his hand calmly on the small of the boy’s back and smiled politely at the girl.

“Dipper got eye surgery, so his vision isn’t up to par.”

Dipper shrunk back nervously at hearing his name come from the demon; it was wrong, off putting.

Pacifica glanced at their clasped hands and smiled fondly, but the demon could tell there was scrutiny behind her guarded mannerisms.

“You finally got a boyfriend?” She teased, causing Dipper to splutter in humiliation.

“No! God, no,” he pulled his hand from the demons loose grip.

“A shame. I might steal him myself,” the blonde purred.

“Pacifica,” Mabel frowned, her tone disapproving.

Bill grinned at the girls and snaked his arm around the teenage boy’s waist, fingernails digging a bit roughly into his side. Commanding to obey, to stay still.

“I’m flattered,” he laughed easily. “But I have my eyes on other things.”

Bill glanced at the boy pressed to his side, feeling the flare of emotion that radiated off the other. Dipper was not pleased to say the least.

Pacifica giggled lightly at the scene and glanced at her friend who was watching to the two closely. “Well, I have to go but we should catch up some time. Especially you Dipper and your new beau.”

He waited a few baited seconds before he was sure Pacifica was oit of earshot. Dipper prickled under the insinuation and pulled away from the demon, reaching out for his sister who immediately took his arm.

“Why did you do that?” He directed to Bill.

Dipper felt a tick of annoyance in the back of his mind, the emotion not belonging to his person.

“Would you rather start telling people that you’re blind? Momentarily, permanently…While you’re at it why don’t you tell them you’re dead, no excuse me,” Bill corrected himself, “formerly deceased.”

Dipper bristled at the reply, even if he knew the demon was being oddly reasonable.

“Whatever,” he mumbled and squeezed Mabel’s upper arm, trying to signal to her that he wanted to leave.

He felt Bill brush past them, Mabel’s giggles muffling his thoughts.

“You guys bicker too much,” she sighed. “People might mistake you for an old married couple.”

Dipper tried not to think about the comment, or Pacifica’s assumptions, or the way Bill had pressed flush against him, radiating false affection.

He tried and failed.

\--

Dipper got up from the couch slowly, pushing gently on his sister so that her weight slid off of him allowing him to move freely.

He straightened his body, widened his eyes foolishly before realizing that the darkness he saw was more or less permanent. Chewing his lip, he stumbled forward, wondering if he would ever get used to this, if time would make him.

His shin caught the edge of the coffee table and with slow, precise movements he maneuvered around it. Counting, one, two, three, four steps until his toes met the TV stand. Tentatively, he reached out, fingers grazing over the bright screen, static tickling his palm, noise prickling his ears. Passing over the back of the device, he switched the power button.

They had been watching one of Dipper’s favorite movies due to Mabel’s insistence. She claimed he could still enjoy the same things, even if he couldn’t see them. She was right, to a certain degree; he could still picture the characters running and arguing, could match certain images to the audio. But it was uncomfortable at times, when she would laugh at comedic scenarios that didn’t involve dialogue, leaving the joke hanging midair for him, unfinished.

Bill had been there at one point. Imputing his sarcastic remarks and comments. Somewhere amidst Mabel’s snores the demon’s voice had drifted off. Dipper wasn’t sure if he had left.

He hoped he did.

Dipper ran his finger down the old television, feeling the left-over energy stick to his skin.

He was tired. He supposed it would be good to sleep, to try at least. But something gnawed at him, violent memories brought to the front of his mind, reminding him how vulnerable he was.

 _It’s fine_ , he reasoned with himself. Surely, Bill wouldn’t allow the same to happen. He wasn’t sure if the demon could be affected by an outside force mentally harming the boy, but he was sure that Bill wouldn’t let him die again.

It would sever the contract and his ties to this world.

Surely, he wouldn’t meddle with that. Surely, he would do something when faced with that situation.

Surely…

Dipper sighed, chastising himself. It was pointless to think of such things, when there was little he could do to prevent or cause.

Sleep, yes that was something he needed. He swiveled, determined to somehow make his way up to his room, especially since Mabel was draped over the entire couch and he wasn’t too keen on sleeping on the floor.

He moved forward but then something shot forward and held back his knees. Fingers grazed his arm and he shivered at the touch.

“Really think that’s such a good idea kid?”

Dipper swallowed the spit that collected in his mouth and tilted his head to Bill’s voice.

“Um, I…” He caught his elbow in one hand and rubbed it timidly.

He caught the sound of movement and then he felt Bill’s presence eerily near him. Bill pushed him forward slightly and he scowled at the demon’s tactlessness.

Slowly, he walked, each step taken carefully and anxiously. Bill made no effort to help and it irked the boy, even though he knew it would be good to map the house in his mind for when no one was around. When they reached the stairs, his hand was gently placed onto the railing. The touch was so soft, he could have mistaken it for passing air.

Blushing warmly, he gripped the railing and made his way up the stairs. When they reached his room, Bill swiftly leaned over him and pushed the door open. Dipper shrugged away at the feeling over the demon’s chest pressed against his back.

He had no idea why the demon was being so generous and patient, so quiet; he was starting to favor the cold and snarling side of him.

Dipper quickly made his way to his bed, surprised at how quickly he had familiarized himself with the room. He jumped into his bed skittishly, scowling because honestly there was no reason for his heart to be beating this way.

He felt the bed dip with weight and then a hand pressed against his chest firmly. He yelped and batted at the invasive limb.

“Loud,” Bill stated calmly, as if he was commenting on a busy city and not the pounding of Dipper’s heart.

Dipper’s face burned and he hoped that Bill wasn’t able to see clearly in the dark.

“Just n-nervous,” he mumbled, “to sleep that is.”

Bill hummed, but made no movement to leave. “Okay.”

Dipper pulled the covers to his chin, teeth nibbling at his lip. _How could he kindly tell Bill to get the hell away from him before he burst into flames from the sheer awkwardness of the situation?_

“Do you want me to put you under?”

He hesitated before refusing. “No…I need to get used to it at some point,” he blurted and added softly, “face your fears and all.”

Bill moved a bit on the bed but gave no reply in return.

“Thank you though,” Dipper whispered.

Bill remained silent to this as well and got up from the bed much to Dipper’s relief.

He listened as covers were pulled back and Bill slipped into Mabel’s old bed. Dipper had finally lent him sheets when the demon had complained that morning.

He turned to face the wall and shut his eyes, letting out a long breath to calm himself. He was finally drifting when he heard Bill mutter something softly.

“I wouldn’t let that thing touch you again.” And then, “Surely,” and the word was carried with such definite, confidence.

And if it was those words that soothed Dipper into a peaceful sleep, well then, no one had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies if its slow rn but i want to set a nice pace and also really dig into Dipper's trouble with his loss of sight


	6. Intermission-Ramesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They never dared ask the origins of a demon, for fear that it was the same as their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Shit half a year has passed since I've touched this story. So sorry ^^;; life got hectic. I'm gonna try to write a lot next week bc I have break and hopefully I can make a schedule for this fic

The blonde boy had been born into isolation, pampered and worshiped by all but touched by none. Conditioned from birth, from the moment the midwife had shrieked in horror, the moment the Queen almost dropped her son in shock. How could it be? They all whispered. How could a boy share eyes with the Sun?

 

He was immediately carted off to the temple of Luxor, where he was announced by the High Priest, the son of Ra. 

 

For the first sixteen years of his life he was doted on. Given only the finest of life-- fresh kills, swollen fruit and wines fermented for decades. He was bathed daily in lavish oils and clothed in soft, hand spun linens. 

 

He was allowed only an hour of sunlight each month, yet somehow his skin remained tinted with gold. He was taught, educated by the best of scholars, but was never allowed to mingle with children his own age. In fact, aside from the servants, tutors and priests, hardly any human caught a glimpse of the rumored boy. 

 

His own parents were mere shadows in the hallways of the palace throughout his life. 

 

There was no reason for him to make contact with any other for he was destined to live a short life; this much had been decided on the day of his birth. 

 

And on the equinox of his sixteenth year the sacrifice and his unification with the Gods would commence. He would be painted with rows of black ciphers,messages to the Gods they said and drowned in the river.

 

His corpse would be then bathed with wine and the water from the Nile, his organs removed, his skin smothered with oils and wrapped in linen and finally would be placed deep inside the tombs of the pyramid. 

 

The people of Egypt would carry his story on their tongues; they would tell of the soft spoken boy, whose voice would melt the strongest of hearts, whose eyes had managed to capture the whole of Egypt. 

 

It was said that the first time the Pharaoh and Queen had seen their son smile was the day he died.

 

They called him Ramesses, but when he returned he would bear a different name. 

 

\--

 

Ramesses met Ra in a blinding flash of light. He was taken onto the boat of Mesektet where they then sailed across the sky to the Underworld.

 

He watched with curious eyes as Ra transformed into what his people called the God of Death, Osiris. 

 

Osiris told him of his purpose and gifted him the title of Saa, the God of Perception. And for centuries Saa accompanied Ra on his daily journey through the sky, until the humans worshipment vanished and with it the Gods themselves. 

 

\--

 

In another lifetime, Saa was branded the Devil.

 

In another he was forgotten. 

 

Somewhere along the stretch of time his soul was lost, until it traveled over the boundary of dimension. 

 

On this plane of existence, he met another lost soul, one alike, one he would call his brother. Together they would grow and oversee as humanity passed through millennia. They would learn to shape time, take different forms, imprint their image into the lives of humans.

 

And when he was asked by his brother what name he would choose, he recalled Ramesses the scared boy with ink coding marking his skin, who smiled until his last breath.

  
“Cipher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I always head-canoned that Bill was human at one point so yes this doesn't align with the canon origins of him. To explain a bit better, Gods can only exist when they are believed in by humans, so when a religion ends the Gods or God of that religion will cease to exist, but since Bill's soul was never meant to be a God or human he just kinda wandered aimlessly through dimensions until he morphed into a demon.   
> Ramesses means the son of the sun god, Ra btw


	7. Confidential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper finds himself confiding in someone he had never thought highly of before.

Insomnia is a rare book that wins the battle of drooping eyelids.

Odd as it may be for a dream demon, Bill dreaded the long hours of dusk and the deep lull his body demanded. All the same, being that very demon he knew quite well the vulnerability one is put when in slumber.

Still, he could not help the annoyance flaring in his stomach at the ruckus Dipper was making.

The boy had once again rejected any appeasement from Bill. Dipper’s own stubbornness left him tossing and turning in his sleep.

Bill pressed his fingers to his temples and attempted to block out the boys groans and pants.

A loud cry escaped Dipper’s lips, causing an uncomfortable tightness to bloom across Bill’s chest. Bill grimaced and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, getting up to sit at the edge of the human’s mattress.

Dipper was shaking, his body convulsing and covered in a sheen layer of sweat.

Bill wanted to smile, to bask in the excitement and amusement of the human boy's fear, but it was overwhelmed by this cold, icy sting in the back of his neck.

Exasperated and exhausted, he watched the boy cautiously and muttered under his breath, “You're gonna cause me a load of grief aren't ya’ Pine Tree?”

Bill reached behind the boy's head, nudging his hand between the mattress and the back of Dipper’s neck.

The demon concentrated, trying to summon as much life magic his vessel could muster.

He felt the ice spread down his back and across his head, felt it prickle his skin with pain, felt his fingers radiate warmth to the boy's clammy skin.

Dipper shot up in the bed, a hoarse cry ripping from his throat and he grasped Bill painfully tight.

Bill startled, confused as to why the boy would wake when he had been trying to ease his suffering.

“I c-cant see,” Dipper choked. “I can’t–I can’t see!”

Bill pulled back from the panicked human and pried Dipper’s fingers from his arm.

He held the boy’s wrists forcefully and pinned them against his own knees. “Pine Tree for demon’s sake calm down!”

The boy yelped at the harshness of the demon’s voice. “B-Bill?”

Bill suppressed the anger in his gut and forced his voice to soften.

“Calm down, kid,” he loosened his grip and ran his fingers gently in a reassuring manner up Dipper’s forearms. “You’re fine, everything's fine. We’re in your bedroom,” Bill glanced around room and tried to improvise. “It's the middle of the night. You had a nightmare. You're sitting in bed with me and...you lost your sight a week or so ago, remember?”

Dipper visibly relaxed, his face taking on a somber expression. “Oh.”

Bill sat, their knees touching, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the emotional situation.

Dipper fumbled slightly before his hand hesitantly grasped Bill’s.

Bill frowned down at the human's fingers intertwining between his own and resisted the urge to pull his hand away. He supposed at least the contact soothed Dipper and more importantly relieved the pressure in the back of the demon’s neck.

“Bill?” Dipper spoke softly, eyes half closed and staring aimlessly through the demon.

Bill hummed in acknowledgment.

“What were you doing here? Next to me I mean..”

Bill tongued the side of his cheek and raised a brow. “I can assure you I wasn't attempting to take advantage of you, Pine Tree.”

Dipper flushed at the demon's teasing tone, before frowning.

“No...I wasn't thinking that,” he replied, voice smothered with embarrassment.

Bill made an amused noise and pinched Dipper’s hand gently. “You were making it impossible to sleep. I was just trying to soothe your mind.”

Dipper tilted his head, and Bill could practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“Wouldn't that be life magic?” His voice perked. “You can practice life magic?”

Bill clenched his teeth and hesitated to answer. “No. I'm a demon Dipper,” he lied, watching the boy deflate. “I can't do what you ask of me.”

Dipper shook his head and smiled nervously. “Ah yeah, it was stupid…”

Bill narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “But I am a dream demon.”

Dipper stilled and reluctantly asked, “Bill, those nightmares...they weren't from you, right?”

Bill laughed at the accusation and leaned forward, breath tickling the boy's cheek. “Pine Tree, if I wanted to give you nightmares you would certainly know.”

Dipper froze momentarily before falling lax. Bill was surprised at the small giggle that escaped the boy.

Bill frowned. “What's so funny kid?”

Dipper cracked a grin. “Everything's so surreal. All of this,” he moved his hand expressively. “You here… it's so ironic and weird.”

“Hmm,” Bill hummed. “Okay, time for bed Pine Tree. You're getting a little too bonkers for my liking.”

He got up quickly, relieved at the distance between the two. Reaching out, he caught himself, realizing he was about to pet the boy's crown.

Dropping his hand, he bit his tongue lightly and slipped back into his bed, trying to ignore the pleasing warmth in his neck.

  
\--

 

⠠⠇⠑⠁⠗⠝⠊⠝⠛ ⠠⠃⠗⠁⠊⠇⠇⠑

He dipped his fingers into the smooth crevices in the paper and felt his way along the bumps.

Mabel had bought him a book on learning braille that came with an instructive audio tape, with what had to be the most nasally voice he had ever been subjected to listen to.

⠁A  
⠃B  
⠊E or was that I?  
Dipper groaned and pressed his head against the book.

He heard a chuckle behind him, followed by the words, “Dear Pine Tree, as much as it amuses me to watch you fail countlessly at something as simple as the alphabet, I must be on my way.”

Dipper heard shuffling behind him before a hand was placed on the neck of his chair, fingers brushing against his back.

“Where do you have business going anywhere Bill?” He inclined his head to his left where he assumed the demon was standing.

“Demons have better things to do than babysit the disabled, sapling.”

Dipper flinched, not sure whether he should be more offended at the insult or the new nickname.

“Here.”

Dipper flicked his head towards Bill’s voice in confusion as his hand was pried open and an object was placed in it.

It was heavier than he expected and cool to the touch.

“Bill?” He questioned.

“It's a walking stick. Thought it would be good for you to start caning so that I can relieve myself as your borrowed set of eyes,” Bill replied flatly.

Dipper blanched, taken aback by the uncharacteristically kind gesture.

“I…Thank you, Bill.”

The demon simply grunted in response before adding, “Canes have always been a favorite accessory of mine. And besides, I can't go around bonded to a meatsack who doesn't use the proper color schemes.”

Dipper furrowed his brows at the comment. “God Bill, is it gold and black?”

“Not God, kid! Just Cipher.” Dipper could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Dipper shook his head in irritation and made a shooing motion in the general direction of the demon.

“Don’t miss me too much, Pine Tree.”

Dipper opened his mouth to reply but was startled by his chair being spun, making his stomach flip inside him. Gripping the armchairs, he scowled and once he gathered himself, spat out, “Wouldn't dream of it, Cipher.”

 

\--

 

Mabel had been helping him cane around the outside of the Shack and laughed at him occasionally whenever he stumbled across a rock.

“I can't believe Bill made you a walking stick,” she called from behind him.

Dipper scowled. “I can't believe he made it black and yellow.”

Mabel giggled. “I think it's cute.”

Dipper snorted and tapped the stick three times in a swiping motion as he made his way to the front porch. “You find everything and anything cute, Mabes.”

Mabel made no retort and instead asked, “Where’s that demon anyway?”

Dipper shrugged and carefully made his way up the first step. “He said he had stuff to do.”

“That's weird–,” Mabel started but was cut off by her phone going off.

Dipper listened as his sister answered the phone and talked animatedly to who he assumed was one of her friends.

“Dip, do you think you can make it into the house fine? Candy and Grenda said there's a sale on sewing materials at Sally’s!”

Dipper waved his hand lightly. “Yeah, go have fun Mabel.”

He felt a pair of lips press against his cheek and he instinctively wiped it.

“Thanks bro-bro! I'll be back before you know it.”

Smiling, he caned his way to the door where he reached out for the doorknob, high fiving himself for getting it on the first try.

He walked straight for the living room to pick up the braille book he had left on the coffee table.

“—what do you mean you can't come! I told you it was important, Ford...no of course not. Look you won't believe me ‘till you see it.”

Dipper stilled at the booming sound of Stan’s voice and stilled, surprised that his Grunkle hadn't seen him yet.

“Yes, I am one hundred percent positive that it's that son of a bitch. He told me himself...now he's fucking bonded to Dipper,” Stan paused for a few moments before continuing. “Look if you care at all about these kids you will be here by the end of the week to kill that fucking demon and that's _final_.”

Dipper jolted at the sound of the phone being slammed back against the wall.

“You told Ford to come here?” Dipper’s voice wavered. “To kill Bill?”

There was a pregnant pause in which he assumed Stan has noticed his presence.

“Yes, and I'm sure he'll figure out...how to fix everything,” Stan sighed in exasperation.

Dipper was splintered by anger. “I'm not broken,” he stated firmly.

He heard Stan move towards him. “That's not what I meant kid.”

Dipper shrugged the hand that came to rest on his shoulder. “Why did you call him?! You can’t kill Bill, we're connected it will kill me too!”

“I said we would take care of that!” Stan replied harshly, in a tone Dipper only received when he was young and being disciplined. “Besides, why the hell do you care? That demon is the reason we're in this fucking mess.”

Dipper scowled, hands fisting at his side. “He saved me!”

“Yeah, at a price Dipper!”

He shook with fury and felt a cold prickle at the nape of his neck.

“Well, without Bill I would still be dead! And yeah I'm blind but so fucking what! Tons of people are blind and at least now Bill is protecting us from whatever the hell killed me in the first place.”

Stan practically growled as he shoved past Dipper, making the boy stumble slightly.

“You're too naive Dipper and it's going kill you,” Stan spat from afar. “Permanently.”

 

\--

 

Moving his hand to his nape, Bill cursed at the shocks the bond was sending down his spine.

It had gone dark, the town consumed in a black plume of dust.

He had felt Dipper’s despair in the early afternoon, but had ignored it in favor of finishing the business he had started.

But now, standing in the dark alley, kicking his foot slightly against the brick wall, he found the cold in his back unbearable.

He got up from the concrete ground and placed a glamour over himself. He was not in the mood to deal with humans or their ridiculous reactions of fear.

Bill felt an immense sorrow spread through his chest, and he grimaced, relieved slightly that the kid was not dying, but put off at the thought of walking in on the boy crying.

When he entered the house, it was dark and seemed vacant, but he could sense the soul energy and knew that the twins were home.

Mabel passed him in the hallway of the kitchen and startled when she saw the demon.

“Oh, it’s you,” she set down her glass of water and hugged her middle.

“Hey, Shooting Star,” he replied in a faux cheery voice and stepped back from the girl. The glamour was impeccable but if she touched him it would fall.

Her eyes were wide with concern and she chewed her bottom lip.

“Do you think you can check on Dipper? I don't know what's wrong.”

Bill frowned. “What's up with Pine Tree?”

Mabel shrugged. “I'm not sure but he won't talk to me and Grunkle Stan is avoiding me at all costs.”

She looked up at the demon with pleading eyes as she spoke.

Bill ran a hand through his hair and suppressed the urge to sigh. “Sure thing.” 

He ended their conversation with a curt nod and they parted ways  

When he reached their shared room, he immediately noticed Dipper.

The boy was curled up on the windowsill, head purchased on his knees.

Bill eyed the walking stick propped next to headboard of Dipper's bed and walked quietly, as to not alert the boy, over to where he was. He sat down across from the boy, watching as he tensed at Bill’s movements and frowned in slight confusion.

“What's up, Pine Tree?”

Dipper relaxed at the demon's familiar voice and shook his head gently. “Nothing.”

Bill rolled his eyes and leaned against the triangular window. “You're the absolute worst at lying, kid.”

Dipper frowned but refrained from replying.

“Besides,” Bill continued. “I can feel it.”

He watched a series of emotions flash across the boy's face before it broke and small tear rolled down his plump cheek.

Bill frowned and impulsively reached to wipe the tear away. Dipper leaned into the touch, and it seemed that Bill’s action only made him sob harder.

“I-I fought with Stan,” Dipper croaked. “And he's so upset…and angry at me for everything.”

Dipper's shoulder shaked, his body racked with pain.

Bill sat still, uncomfortable but unwilling to take his reassuring hand away from the boy.

Dipper smiled half-heartedly. “But it's not like I wanted any of this. It's not like I wanted to…to die or become blind.”

Dipper's face contorted with irritation. “And he, he’s so angry at you. And I understand, you're a total asshole,” he flashed a smile at the demon. “But I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you.”

Bill froze, surprised to hear the raw emotion in Dipper's words, and for once was at a loss of words.

He pulled the boy slowly, until his head collided against the demon's chest. Dipper made a soft sound and Bill barely took notice of the glamours destruction.

“This is what humans do, right?” Bill asked. “Weird skin contact somehow makes you meat sacks happier."

Dipper chuckled softly at the comment and relaxed in the demon's embrace. “Yeah, that's what hugs are for Bill.”

Bill maneuvered his arms awkwardly before finding a comfortable position for the both of them. He found himself smiling, pleased that the human was trusting him so quickly, it would certainly make things easier in the future.

“Bill why are you wet?” Dipper pulled back slightly, brow furrowed, as he touched his now wet cheek.

A shot of exhilaration hit the bottom of Bill’s stomach, eyes and grin widening at the sight of Dipper’s cheek smeared with blood.

“Oh, I just fell in a puddle,” Bill replied, voice honeyed and deep. He reached out to caress the boy's chin between his fingers.

“Say Pine Tree have I ever told you how good you look in red?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⠠⠇⠑⠁⠗⠝⠊⠝⠛ ⠠⠃⠗⠁⠊⠇⠇⠑ is the title of the book Dipper was reading from and literally translates to just "Learning Braille"
> 
>  
> 
> In the next chapter we'll find out why Bill was covered in blood （╹◡╹）also, do you guys want me to start posting summaries for chapters?


End file.
